


Someone

by Mushaloons



Series: Kidge Valentine's Day Event 2018 [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, Katie sucks at safety, Letters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-28
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-03-25 02:06:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13824210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mushaloons/pseuds/Mushaloons
Summary: Katie writes to an anonymous person.





	1. Letter One

Katie hated romance. She hated it more than she hated her job. So when she found a letter in her mailbox with  _ Happy Valentine’s Day _ scrawled across it, she just closed the box and went inside, figuring that whoever wrote it got the addresses mixed up. 

 

Another came the next day. She ignored it.

 

Only the letters kept coming, day after day, seven letters a week. It got up to the point where even her mailman just chucked the mail at her door and bolted. She would’ve laughed, but she was freaking out internally.  _ What if it’s a stalker? HOLY SHIT AM I GONNA DIE? _

 

Her eyes drifted to the pile of letters she left on her porch.  _ Might as well open one if I’m gonna die… _

 

The envelope, surprisingly, didn’t carry any poison or explosives. Nor did it have a hidden shard in it. It was just a letter, a pretty one, with hand-drawn flowers around it. And not the ones kindergarteners would draw. They were small, and intricate, lacing themselves around the paper.  _ Well it certainly looks friendly… _

 

_ Seriously, man? Just open it! _

 

Fingers slightly trembling, she flipped open the letter. 

 

_ Hey Pidge,  _ (Pidge? Holy crap was Matt or Lance trolling her?) 

_ I know you haven’t read the past forty-two letters I wrote you.  _ (Well that isn’t creepy)  _ Yeah, I know. Creepy as fuck. But, before you file a restraining order, Matt told me.  _

 

_ We haven’t talked in awhile, so I know if I told you who I was already, you’d probably just yell at me to go to hell and shit.  _ (Sounds like Lance, but the most recent time he talked to her was last Friday.)  _ Matt gave me your address, and well, it seemed like your mailbox needed more letters that weren’t bills.  _ (Can this get ANY more creepy?) 

 

_ I just wanted to say...well, Happy Valentine’s Day, I guess.  _

 

_ Yours Truly, _

_ Someone. _

 

Someone? Who the hell was someone? And nobody she knew signed with  _ ‘Yours Truly.’  _ At least, everyone but her parents. And her parents’ friends. And Allura and Coran, but they were still in space with Shiro. No way they could’ve sent the letter. 

 

Hunk moved to Italy with Shay, and there was no international stamp thing on the letter. Also she was sure the fanciness hadn’t gotten to his brain. Lance had recently flown back to Cuba after staying with her in Arizona for a couple weeks, and during that whole time she hadn’t seen him write anything but immigration forms. Also he definitely wasn’t the type of person who would write Yours Truly. That left Keith. Last time she checked he was either with the Blade or in Texas. He didn’t seem like he was going to write any letters, much less to  _ her _ .

  
Well, that left a little mystery then. The corner of her mouth perked up. Grabbing a pen and a sheet of paper, she began writing her own letter to  _ Someone.  _ She could have a little fun with this….


	2. Back and forth with the Anonymous

She got one back almost immediately.

A yellow chrysanthemum was folded into the papers, bright and cheery. It fell unnoticed onto her desk, though, as she was more interested in what the letter had to say.

_Hey Pidge,_

_I know you asked for my identity, but it wouldn’t be as fun to tell you now, would it?_ _(Jerkass...) Don’t worry though, you’ll find out soon enough. I’ll give you a hint: Lions. (So this must be a paladin then...)_

_Anyways, how’s life going for you? You’re what, almost 22? According to Facebook, you’re already out of college. Impressive. (Could this person get even more creepier?) And makes me feel like even more of a dumbass since I never went, and here you are, graduating from MIT at 19. Even Lance has a bachelor’s degree already._

_So, see you around. I guess. From, Som-_

”If you’re going to be so engrossed in that letter, I’m betting you wouldn’t care to share it with the rest of us, right Katie?”

Katie looked up. “What?”

Her annoying deskmate, Charleigh, was leaning over her desk, smirking. Her eyes were stuck on the feathery blue note she was clutching in her hands. “Who’s that from?”

She tucked the note back in her pocket. “Nobody.” She squeaked.

Quentin, another one of her coworkers, leaned over. He snatched the letter from her pocket. “Nobody, huh? Let’s see about that.” He, Charleigh, and a couple other people leaned over to see what the fuss was about. Katie tried to grab the letter back, but everyone was over 5 foot 5, so they easily held it high over her head. “‘Hey Pidge,’” He turned to look at her. “Nice name, shorty.”

They continued reading the letter, ridiculing her. “‘And P.S. Coran sent me some nunvil. Apparently Altean drinks do get expired after traveling thousands of light years over. Did you get some too?’” Carlos’, one of the interns and normally a really good person, looked up at her. “What’s nunvil?”

”Oh my God, Carlos. It’s obviously code words for obvious drug dealing.” Charleigh’s pouty lips spread into a menacing smile. “And how would that look to the bosses, Holt? You’re probably going to be put on the sex offender’s registry or something.”

”Drug dealers don’t get on sex offender’s registries, Charleigh.” Mabel whispered quietly.

”Whatever. She’s still screwed either way. I won’t tell, of course,” she smirked. “Since she’s gonna hook me up with her friend.”

”I could report you for harassment.” 

“And people would believe a junkie-“ She froze at the blade pointed at her chin. Glowering almost as bad as her bayard, Katie whispered threateningly, “You call me that again, I’ll slit your throat open.” 

“Ms. Holt, Ms. Abrams, what is the meaning of this?”

They both looked up to see their glowering manager staring down at them. Charleigh, quick to feign sadness, started bawling huge crocodile tears. “We were just talking and then Katie threatened me with this kn-knife!” Behind the manager, though, she flashed her a sneering smile. 

“Well then, Ms. Holt, I’ll be looking forward to seeing you pack up your desk. Tomorrow I hope to see your resignation letter on my desk-“

Katie just steamrolled past them all. “No need.” She ripped the letter out of Quentin’s hands, not before kneeing him in the crotch, grabbed her stuff (not like she had much. Her desk was completely empty and free of anything but her backpack and jacket.) and bolted down the hall, not before crashing into someone else. “Sorry,” she mumbled before picking up her pace again. 

Once she was outside, though, she stopped.  _Where the hell was she going to go?_ Her parents were all the way back in California, Matt was in Washington, her car was in the shop, and, well, everyone else she knew was either working or out of state. How the hell was she going to-

“Pidge?” 

She spun around. A man, about five foot seven with black hair, went up to her. He was twenty four, twenty five max. “Uh, hey. I’m Keith. Kogane.” When she only stared back, he tried again. “You know, Voltron?”

Katie forced a smile. “How could I forget the one guy who was a total hypocrite about leaving? Not to mention the same guy who almost got me killed." Keith's body went rigid at that comment, and sadistically she loved every minute of it. "The real question is stop stalking me." 

"What? I work here." He gestured to the building. "And the only reason I even followed you was because you dropped this.” He held out his hand, and she looked down. A small photo of her, Lance, Shiro, Allura, and Hunk from their final mission. Coran had taken the photo. In it, Lance’s eyes were crossed from sneezing, and Hunk’s body movements were blurred, partially from laughter and Coran’s inability to use a camera. Shiro was carrying her, and he and Allura looked like two happy parents on a kid’s disasterous birthday. 

She must’ve been standing there for an awful lot of time, because Keith cleared his throat. “Well, uh, I better get going. My break’s only half an hour so, see you around Pidge.”

 _So see you around._ “Wait.” Keith stopped where he was. She approached him. “There’s a cafe down the street. Can we talk? You know, former paladin to former paladin?” She paused, then added. “Or is that too awkward?”

To her surprise, he smiled. “Coffee sounds great.”

”Okay.”

He went inside to retrieve his jacket, leaving her there, standing with what she hoped wasn’t a smile. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m skipping homework for this
> 
> Also, I’m sorry to everyone named Charleigh or Quentin.
> 
> Also I seriously don’t know what the fucking hell they work for


	3. Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katie and Keith reconcile...hopefully. Also this chapter doesn't make sense so sue me.

The cafe was quiet, except for the jangling of the bells hanging on the door and the soft music playing from the radio on the shelf. An old couple sat by the window, giving them the occasional ‘young love’ look. The entire atmosphere made her want to puke. She wanted desperately to tell that couple that yes, they were together, but PLATONICALLY. 

Keith, on the other hand, didn’t seem to be stressing about all of this. He just stirred the black swamp called ‘coffee’ in his cup and tapped at his phone. Katie didn’t have her phone, thanks to her rush out of the house, she left it on her bed stand. She did have a book, but really, did she want to read about basic Java for the millionth time? It was practically ingrained in her head by now. So she just sat there, slurping her coffee, with three creams, and at least fifteen sugar substitutes. When Keith asked if she was trying to substitute crack with sugar, she just shrugged. It wasn't like she needed the caffeine, but giving up a chance to get free food and fuck up everything? No way in hell. 

She looked disgustedly at his choice of drink. "How is that even considered coffee?" She hissed.

He looked up, surprised. "It's not," he whispered back. "It's literally cocoa beans grounded into sludge."

"It looks like shit."

"It is shit.  _The_ shit."

"Well..fuck it."

"Where and when?"

"Fuck you."

"And I'll say it again. Where and when?"

"Oh my God...are you sure you're the Keith I know?"

He ignored her, and chugged the rest of the molten lava, letting out a satisfied burp at the end. "How's life?" He said.

Katie just stared at him, amused. "What?" Keith asked.

"You're just going to say that after stinking up this whole room?"

"...yeah?"

She shook her head sadly, tears welling up in her eyes. "My poor boy, how he has lost all his manners at age 24."

He dropped his gaze, instead choosing to stare at the floor. His bottom lip protruded outwards like a sad dog. "Sowwy Mommy."

They caught each others gazes, then cracked up. The cashier shushed them, and then they were silent again. "So..."

"So..."

"Still like pineapples on your pizza?"

"Yeah...still like anchovies?"

"Yeah...better than pineapples though."

"Screw you," She laughed, and swung her legs over onto the table, ignoring the death glare a random blond kid employee gave her. "Life's great. Lance is moving to California, Hunk's Italian..."

"Makes sense."

"Shiro and Allura are apparently diplomatic ambassadors together now."

"They're so hooking up."

"That's what I said! Shiro just turned red and ignored me though."

And that's how the next ten minutes went. Jokes, laughter, the ever-so-often scowl of the waiters, and the small silences that passed by. Lance impressions, Hunk impressions, Shiro impressions, Coran.... Like nothing ever changed between the two of them. It was like nothing ever happened. Then disaster struck.

Keith's phone began ringing. He answered it. "Hello?....yeah....wait, what?" The call ended right then and there, and he sat back down, more serious than he had been before. "Did you threaten Charleigh Abrams with your bayard?" His voice was quiet.

"They told you?" She asked.

"Is it true or not?"

"Yeah, but it's not like-"

"You don't just threaten co-workers with blades, especially since you're not even supposed to have that bayard anymore. The government specifically asked for them."

She scoffed. "Hunk still has his. So does Lance and Shiro. You're the only one here who turned it in, and judging by that look on your face you didn't even do that."

"This isn't about me." His tone was hard. He paced around. "The problem is YOU threatened her with it, and now she's suing the company and-"

"Hold up." Now she was getting angry. "Just because I threatened a spoiled brat?"

"Not like you even had a reason to!"

"Well maybe this could've been cleared up if just someone stopped sending me anonymous letters!" Her fist slammed down on the table, jostling the mugs into splashing coffee everywhere. Keith's eyes widened, as if he knew something she didn't. "Pidge wait-"

"Shut up Keith." She glared at him before picking up her stuff. "Only my friends get to call me that."

And with that, she left a (slightly) guilty Keith at their table with 20 dollars. 

* * *

 

At the bus stop, Katie thought over her reaction. Was she being overdramatic, or did she just pick the wrong time to blow up at him? Why was she stressing over some guy? Oh yeah, because she was being  _sued._

Fuck this. Fuck it. Fuck EVERYTHING. The next day, she was going to run. Didn't matter where the hell it was. Just not here. Make a fake ID, fake her death, become a hippy in San Francisco or a New York hipster. So what about her stuff? Her house was rented, she could leave everything in her parents' garage, which would probably get sold in a yard sale. Not like it mattered anyways. She got a shitty job as an accountant for some social media company, thanks to her blowing up at a professor. And now she was fired. And about to end up being jailed. 

She groaned and buried her face in her hands. If this plan worked out, at least she wasn't going to be stuck like this. 

_Dear Someone,_

_Stop playing this shitty games on me. Just tell me who you are already, because it cost me my job and probably several years of my life in jail._

_Definitely not yours truly,_

~~_Pid_~~ Katherine Holt. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two shitty chapters. Wow. I need a life. Only six more years until I'm finally allowed to crash into a pole with a car. 
> 
> Why am I listening to Chicago the musical

**Author's Note:**

> Conversations with my conscience (which I named Gerald)
> 
> Gerald: So, what’s your main goal in life? HUH? MIA TELL ME.
> 
> Me: Starting kickstarters for underprivileged socks. Also stop calling me that.
> 
> Gerald: ...I liked Markiplier as a princess better.
> 
> Me: Fuck off.


End file.
